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by Arni Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Dark · #2291781
Written February 10, 2023. Continuation of an old poem of mine about depression.
The dog that sits and waits at the door.
He whines, paws, and scratches at the door.
The entrance is battered by the wind and rain.
Lightning has not yet come,
But someday it will.

The dog barks, waiting, and whining.
When will you understand the situation?
Our furry friend has gone on to a new home
For shelter from the rain.
But he will be back not too long shortly.

Will the dog be embraced with warmth?
In a loving home.
Under an old roof.
In the thick of a den under vines.

Vines are rather strong.
They provide warmth and cover.
The bugs love vines.
They love vines so much that the dog itches.
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